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“You did a great job,” Brock praised her, making Whitney beam.
“What a crafty little girl you are,” Alexandra, Brock’s date, added in.
Oh yes, we had a house full of awkward dates. Because nothing says Christmas like fake relationships. Brock was there with the Dani-approved Alexandra, who had to go powder her nose like five times. I was beginning to think that was a code word for something else and I was more than a little worried.
Dani’s date wasn’t much better. He had a love affair with himself. I don’t know how many times I caught him staring at his reflection in Jonah’s stainless-steel appliances, but it was an unhealthy amount, to be sure. I mean, yes, Scott was handsome with his chiseled jaw and wavy dark hair, but I wanted to tell him he still looked the same as he did ten minutes ago. When Scott wasn’t ogling himself, he was perusing Dani while always making sure to have his arm around her, which made decorating the tree a little hard. Not that a lot of decorating was getting done. Brock and Dani kept looking at each other—when the other one wasn’t looking their way, that is. It was like a cringy rom-com.
Then there was Brant and Jill, who took awkward to a new level. Jill obviously liked Brant more than he liked her. He was nice to her, making sure she was well supplied with Kinsley’s homemade wassail and Christmas cookies. I’m pretty sure the poor woman had already eaten about a dozen herself, since Brant kept bringing them to her, and sadly, she seemed desperate to please him. She kept reaching out and touching his hand or the lapel of his jacket, all while he kept feeding her, never reciprocating the physical affection.
That left us with Kinsley and Ethan, who she’d met at her restaurant. Apparently, he’d been in several times to flirt with her and had finally worked up the courage to ask her out. Why Kinsley thought this was a good first date, I didn’t know, but Ethan didn’t seem to mind. He had a kind, goofy demeanor to him and was happy to help Kinsley with whatever she needed, from arranging cookies on the platters to hanging ornaments. He was super tall. I would say at least six feet, four inches. He and Kinsley looked kind of odd together since she was only five feet, four inches. But Ethan seemed enamored with our Kinsley, who, unfortunately, kept sneaking glances at Brant. I think I was the only one who noticed. Brant seemed overly interested in Ethan too, peppering him with all sorts of questions as if he was Kinsley’s dad. Where do you work? Where did you graduate? Who’s your family?
Ethan good naturedly answered—he was an accountant from California who’d just moved here not too long ago. Brant made sure to throw in that he was an attorney and a Holland. Ethan didn’t know the Holland name, which made me smile. I wasn’t sure what Brant’s deal was. I’d never seen him throw his name around like that before. Not that he really had to. Everyone around here knew who the Hollands were.
It was an anomaly that I had the most normal relationship of the night. I smiled up from my seat on the couch where I was finishing the red bows that would adorn the tree. In my line of sight, Jonah was holding up Whitney to place one of the umbrella ornaments I’d made toward the top of the ten-foot Fraser Fir the three of us had picked out last night at the tree farm.
Whitney had insisted on walking the entire lot to make sure she was picking out the best of the best. She really was the most determined little girl I had ever known. She was also working her way right into my heart. So was her daddy. Though I’m not sure he had ever vacated his place there.
After this week, Jonah deserved a gold star. The last several nights after Whitney helped me make ornaments and Jonah put her to bed, it was therapy time. I was right, it had gotten uglier. We’d delved into the world of Carl. We even visited my fears that my mom was selling her body to make ends meet. The hardest part was admitting I had shoplifted food and, a couple of times, clothes. I never got caught. In a way, I wished I had. Maybe it would have alerted the authorities to my situation. Maybe my grandparents would have been forced to take me. I still felt awful about it. You do things you normally wouldn’t do when you’re desperate and hungry.
I felt better, though, after Jonah helped me write letters to the places I had stolen from, including enough cash to repay my debt with the letter. Jonah had suggested it even though he didn’t think I had anything to feel guilty about. The more I spilled my guts to him, the more I think he was glad my mother was already dead. He didn’t bad-mouth her, but I could see in his eyes how much he loathed her. Honestly, Jonah didn’t really say much of anything while I vomited my past, night after night. He just listened and held me. Amazingly, I hadn’t scared him away yet.
